


The Oni

by Neaislove



Series: Kamikakushi [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, Genderfluid, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Sasuke prefers feminine clothes, Sasuke sees demons and spirits, Uchiha Sasuke-centric, bi-gender Naruto, brief descriptions of death/dying, but male pronouns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 04:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21068996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neaislove/pseuds/Neaislove
Summary: The Sharingan saw many things. Sasuke saw many things more. He sees a woman who looks like his mother. She isn't. Isn't even human. But she is kind. And that is something Sasuke has been longing for.





	The Oni

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to do something a little spooky for Halloween. This did not end up being spooky at all but it has a certain vibe to it. And I'm really in love with Japanese mythology and folklore so there's that.

The Uchiha have the eyes of demons.

The Uchiha harbor the souls of yokai.

Fire can not burn them.

Where Uchiha gather, otherness is sure to follow.

Only Senju Hashirama, with the breadth of his life giving chakra, could keep the Uchiha at bay. But as all waves that beat against the bank, they too would break free.

The Uchiha came to live on the edge of the village. And they built a wall to keep the vastness of Hashirama's trees away. But those trees reached for the heavens and time wore holes in the wall. But time also brought visitors. The roots settled and in the beginning their otherness, their unnatural life and vibrancy, pushed away all else. Then otherness recognized otherness and yokai learned to see beyond the light of life in the trees to the red and fire that lived in the Uchiha behind them.

A crack in the wall, bigger than the others, was bright over top but dark going through. Bird calls from above and whispers beyond. Visitors to the compound did not notice the difference. Their eyes slid from the hole like water off a back. They didn't have the sight in their heads or the darkness in their hearts to know the shadows from the spirits.

Fifty years on from the founding of the village Uchiha Mikoto welcomes her second son into the world. He is born in the summer. In the sun. The first thing he sees is light from above and it touches his eyes before the midwife can even pull him free. He is a bright child. Light and sweet. Seemingly untouched by the otherness the rest of the village sees in the Uchiha. Mikoto hears things beyond the wall. Both inside the village and inside the trees.

Her first son, Itachi born forty-five years after the founding, was born in the night under a dozen signing crows. He is seen as the epitome of his people. A vision to his clan and a boy that is other in every sense. Mikoto does what she can but there is no path for her first born that has her in it. She relegated him to Fugaku and hoped for the best. Itachi was not the dark specter the villagers thought him to be. But they made him so. And it seemed Sasuke's fate to be the opposite in even this. Mikoto does what she can and nurtures the sweetness she sees so the darkness she feels will sway. But the Uchiha have always courted demons and her sons would do so more closely than any since the founding. It is time for the trees to break. With the Senju gone it was only natural for them to follow.

Fifty-six years past the founding Sasuke runs from his mother to chase a cat. He sees it steal a piece of cloth from his Obaa and blame a cousin. He is plenty good at chasing cats. The one thing he knows he is better at than his aniki. He thinks nothing of it being a bakeneko and not a standard cat. It has two tails instead of one and it is as normal to him as men who have one eye instead of two. His eyes, not even red yet, see more than most. It had always been that way.

The bakeneko takes him through the hole in the wall rather than over and Sasuke sees for the first time that there is a separate world. A different place where only the Uchiha can safely exist. Because Sasuke runs through the hole at midday with his mother's voice loud in his ears and emerges in the twilight with only birdsong on the air. He takes the cloth back from the four legged thief and ignores the pull on his heart that begs him to stay.

When Sasuke returns to Mikoto he does not get the reprimand he'd expected. Instead his mother makes him grilled onigiri. She heats the grill with her bare hands and when she presses down the rice Sasuke watches the steam with rapt attention.

Shortly after this Sasuke meets Uzumaki Naruto. In spirit rather than person. The shadow beneath his feet stretches wider than any man Sasuke has ever seen. It shapes itself after a fox with many tails. Sasuke sees, fifty-six years after the founding that there are yokai, that there are things between; and people that can be both.

Fifty-eight years after the founding Uchiha Itachi slays his mother and father. Sasuke slips into the compound through the hole in the wall. He comes from constant twilight to a sky with a bleeding moon and an emptiness in the air. He'd not realized until then that his clan held warmth. Fire and feeling that took up a tangible space in their compound. Without them Sasuke feels cold. Alone. The yokai beyond the wall whisper to him. First in condolence then in invitation. Sasuke chooses not to listen for a long time.

When he does it is in desperation. He hears geta. Not the beto beto beto beto that sings in the night on dark roads behind men who are deaf as well as blind. These are proper steps, sounds made by a trained woman. Sasuke is desperate to see his mother and so he runs. The sound leads him through the hole in the wall and back to the unending twilight. He follows the sound of it, the slide and drag of smoothed wood on stone, until he sees the back of a woman. He is farther into the dark woods than he has ever been before. Beyond the birdsong he knows, where the trees no longer feel like there are men trapped inside of them.

The woman is tall. Made more so by the geta she wears. They are not the kind favored by his mother. They are tall, more than a foot, and are painted glossy and black. But Sasuke is young, desperate and confused still. So he calls to her.

"Okaasan! Okaasan!" He looks over her ornate hair. Six dark wood kanzashi stab into her hair and fixed on their ends are candles. The flames dance over the many ornaments and flowers tangled there among the wood. It lights her back and the decorative points painted in white at her nape. Sasuke sobs and looks to his bare feet, covered in soot and dirt and blood. This woman is not his mother. But he is taken with grief and not one person has saw fit to comfort him with a single lie.

When she turns to him, he sees through the blur of tears, that she has only half a face. Skin painted white from her hair to her top lip which is a vibrant red. Below that is bone, yellowed and porous with age. The candles in her hair light the paint, changing her skin from solid to veneer and back again. She is gorgeous still and deadly. Like his mother was. He reaches out to her with the seeking hands of a child. A foolish gesture Fugaku had trained out of him.

The woman comes to him. Her tall geta slide in arks away from the hem of her red kimono. The obi is a rich purple, stitched with gold flowers, black flames, and pink peonies. She is beautiful. She is not his mother. She is not even human. But she comes at his call and soon Sasuke feels a woman's hands gentle across his cheeks. Cupping his face like a mother would.

"Okaasan." Sasuke closes his eyes and wills the cold touch against his skin to become full of warmth. Full of the fire he'd felt within his clan.

"Botchan."

Sasuke forces his eyes open. He looks through the tears, through the red haze and ache in his eyes, and sees the woman before him. Her skin is like painted paper, a delicate washi over old bone. She is more than the woman. Not the spirit of a dead oiran. She is bigger. More monstrous. She is something other and great. Sasuke sees beyond her the construct of a grand skeleton, bigger than any human he has ever seen. And it crouches around her, is her. And it is holding his face.

"I miss haha-ue." Sasuke surges forward and wraps his arms tight around her grand kimono. His thin, dirt covered arms do not meet each other across the width of her. The fabric is soft against his cheek and the ornaments that dangle there tickle across his hair. They smell like metal and blood. Like his mother's chokto. Like her senbon. He wants to believe for a little while longer.

The woman lifts him. Holds him aloft of her like he is nothing but a babe. When he stops his cries and struggles she lowers him again. Sasuke has put his eyes away and he sees only the half faced woman again. He does not count his life as a blessing. He has crossed many things in the other place and not one of them had tried to harm him. There are rules to the other place and Sasuke has always been good at remembering those. But he has forgotten himself in grief.

This is not an Ubume. She will not spirit him away and leave a pile of rocks for the village to mourn over. This is a Hone-Onna. They do not abide by the tears of children and live on the hearts of men. That is what he knows. It is one of the only things his father would tell him about the beasts beyond the wall. Sasuke drops to his knees, in a bow so low, his forehead brushes the dirt below. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You look..."

"Oni, stand."

Sasuke sniffs and raises from his bow. He sits on his knees, careless of the dirt and litter sticking to his face as well as his limbs. "Hone-Onna." He hastily rub the tears from his cheeks and looks her in the eye. They are pitch black from edge to edge and Sasuke imagines a shine there though it is sure to be just dark from emptiness.

"Stand little Oni." She folds her arms out from her ornate obi and uncurls her hand. The tip of her first finger is thin and pointed. Sasuke stands. He goes to her slowly. Cautiously. She takes his small hand in her own and tugs. He goes easily, following on pointed feet as she sweeps her koma-geta out from under her.

The Uchiha compound beyond the crack had always seemed bathed in light. Sasuke knew it now to be a bath of fire chakra. The signs of life of his clan. Now the world beyond the wall was as dark there as it was here. He did not want to go back. Sasuke had lived one year after the slaughter. Alone, the last dying ember in a once important forge. He selfishly held fast to her hand, even as he stared petulantly at the wall. Hone-Onna were not for children but neither was that place. He wanted to stay.

"Go Botchan. Go." She pulled her hand from his and pushed him softly towards his world. Sasuke went to his knees and began to climb through the crack. She was being kind when she did not have to be. As frightened as Sasuke was to go back, he was more frightened still to upset such a being. They were closer to him than any person in the village could be. They were kin even if they weren't clan. Otherness for otherness. So he pushed himself through the crack and for a moment he existed in both places. When he pulled himself entirely to his own side of the wall he looked behind himself. As always there were shadows. A small window of eternal twilight. He could not see the Hone-Onna. But he could hear her sandals. "Visit me again little Oni. When you feel better."

He doesn't feel better. But he crawls through the hole all the same. Being in the other world is a balm on his heart. He finds himself there more than anywhere else. The village is full of pitying stares and nasty whispers. The compound is full of death and the weight of legacy lost. The place beyond the wall is solitary but never lonely. There Sasuke is a kannagi. A rare thing but nothing warranting extra attention. He is a passing oddity at best. Not a tragedy.

Beyond the wall Sasuke meets many creatures. Some remind him of his classmates. Some remind him of his family. He fears that one day he will cross to the other world and lose himself to the unending twilight. But still he goes. There is no mother to stop him. No friend waiting to see him again. No oath to the village so strong he felt it in his soul. Some days he wished he had seen an Ubume that first night. So that everything left of Uchiha Sasuke could be a pile of stone.

Sixty years after the founding Sasuke has a bad day at the academy. Once he had been a clan kid. Despite having no desire to belong with the other clan children, he always had. He was a part of an elite group. They were a step above. When Itachi slaughtered the Uchiha he left Sasuke adrift in many ways. He had clan in name but not in number or practice. Clan children knew that he was no longer a part of them. So the bonds Sasuke had no desire to strengthen before had withered and died. The civilian children had no desire to be friendly with him. Both out of fear, that Itachi would someday come back, and because Sasuke was different. He had an aura about him. The otherness was easily ignored by the other clans. Clans begot oddities. They were their own separate evolution, off the track of civilians. All insular in their own way. Civilians could not begin to understand Sasuke's otherness.

Sixty years after the founding, two years after the slaughter, Sasuke Uchiha decided he would not come back from beyond the wall. He had no home in Konoha. He'd become something in between two sets of people and he had already been in between two kinds of beings. He had an understanding of mission packs. He knew that food and medical supplies were just as important as weapons. He took Shisui's tanto because his mother's chokto was too large. Too much of a burden. He brought his bow and arrow to hunt. He packed gauze and salve and wire.

He left a pile of rocks on his porch with his stuffed dinosaur pinned beneath them. In case Itachi decided to come back some day.

Sasuke made it deep into the woods. Past where he had seen the Hone-Onna. He had dressed traditionally. The other world was slow. Traditional. He wanted to belong. The hakama had belonged to Itachi. He pinned the hems with senbon so he could wear them as he grew. The haori belonged to his father once. It was grandly embroidered, meant for the first son. To symbolize the heir. Sasuke took it so that his Obaa's work would not have gone to waste.

He comes to a river one day. Three days after his trip beyond the wall. He decides to camp there. It is familiar enough that he can remember the Nakano fondly. But not so similar he will drown himself in memories. He catches fish easily. Spots the Kappa even easier. He has no cucumber and he has no one at home to mourn him so he doesn't fear. Here they are simply two young things going about their day.

And because Sasuke's only company is a Kappa, he does not need to be proper. With a glee he hasn't felt in some time, Sasuke scoops the eyes from his catch and eats them with sloppy fingers. The joy of fish eyes lies in keeping them in your mouth. They are fatty, rich. A special treat that is out of place in a strict dining setting. This is how the Hone-Onna sees him again. With slime on his lips and guts under his fingernails.

"Little Oni." Her skin is better today. Still stopping at her top lip but fuller. Her cheeks hold weight. Color beneath the fading white paint. The small spots of eyeshadow at the ends of her lids match the vivid red of her lip. And the bare muscle of her throat.

Sasuke stands to greet her. He twists his hands together as he gives a small bow. Filthy hands are better manners than soiled clothes. "Hone-Onna."

"Botan."

Sasuke stood from his bow and nodded his head. "Botan-san."

"Little Oni." She points to him. Her first finger still ends in a bony point. Her wrist, what bares itself from the ornate robe of her kimono, is pale and delicate.

"Yes." Sasuke decides three days into his journey that he will carry the uchiwa on his back but he will not answer to its name. Not in the other place. It is a burden he will carry to remember himself but it is for him. For the rest he can be an Oni.

Botan does not react to being denied his name. Nor does she seem to recognize the clan symbol on his back. For this she makes an amazing companion. She sits with him, perched on a smoothed rock, going to far as to slip off her geta. Sasuke offers her fish. Together they share a meal. Not as clan or family. But as kin. They watch the Kappa together. They listen to the sounds of creatures hidden in the trees ahead of them. Sasuke describes the crane he'd seen earlier in the week. How it had looked more beautiful than any painting he'd seen. In turn she described an Aosaginohi. How they glow so brightly blue they make even this twilight seem like night around them.

When Sasuke begins to grow tired he fights himself. He does not want his first happy day in a year to end. It is late and time is uncertain. Only kept by his own training. He thinks it's eleven. Maybe midnight but the sky is still stuck in a swath of pinks and purples. He begins to drift, nestled against Botan's kimono. Against her cold, thin leg.

He's picked up. Carried. His body sways back and forth. Sasuke feels the sensation of being much higher and lower than he should be in turn. But the motions are soothing. And he can not feel the cold through so many layers of silk. Sasuke wakes on the fourth day nestled inside of the wall with sunshine on his right arm and twilight on his left. In his lap is a wooden talisman. The paint is worn, gone entirely in the form of little fingerprints. A Baku is there in the paint that remains.

When he drags himself from the crack it is into sunlight. To overgrown grass and faded paint. The walk to his home is accompanied by the sound of a hundred cicadas. It is the only company he has in the compound. The only sign of life because the cats have been wary. The rock pile on his porch is undisturbed. For three days, in the height of summer, Sasuke Uchiha's disappearance had gone unnoticed. When he sees this, again he aches to have simply faded away into obscurity.

He pulled himself into the sun because Botan had given him that choice. And when his mother had given him the choice between sun and sleep he had always chosen the warmth. She wanted him to visit. Not to stay and so long as she was willing to play a mother Sasuke was willing to try and be a good son.

Sixty years after the Founding, two years and three months after the Slaughter, Sasuke Uchiha attempts to be a good son. He begins with the shrines. With the masks and statues. With the heirlooms. Sasuke Uchiha cleans these things and gives them the reverence they are due. It is easier, for him, to do such small things. By two years and four months, near the end of his summer break, the Uchiha compound looked unkempt but not unsalvageable. The compound, like Sasuke, was beginning to heal.

This change is marked most notably by the change just beyond the wall. He venture's through sparingly. Afraid, not of what lies beyond, but of what is in himself. He fears that he will go back to the other place and never return. And as much as he yearns to leave Konoha, and the empty compound, behind he knows it will not help. He changes his opinion on this frequently. His wants and whims changing as swiftly as the summer breeze. But more often than not, he knows that he is not meant to live in the other world. So his visits became more special. An event to look forward to when he had nothing else to pull himself from bed.

It is two years and seven months after the slaughter when Sasuke Uchiha goes back through the wall. He wears a different haori this time. Made of a sturdy cotton material and decorated with a single extravagant white crane. It belonged to one of his female cousins but he does not think Botan-san will mind the change. Again he brings his bow and Shisui's tanto.

This venture beyond the wall was different in one immediately startling and delightful way. Rather than the unremarkable and never ending twilight, Sasuke is greeted with a chōchin-obake. It's wide yawning face is turned to him and greets him with a sound not unlike a groan. Sasuke is reminded of a sleepy dog, happy to see you but too tired to properly bark. Beyond this yellowed lantern spirit, just beyond a dip in the earth, is another. Bright red in color with it's hair braided upwards in a mockery of the hanging wire. Again and again Sasuke's sandaled feet carry him to colorful chōchin-obake that groan to his hello.

The light spirits lead him to the remains of a building. What's left of the stone wall is filthy, covered in dirt and swaths of green moss and mold. Jutting up from the center of it are thin rounded bars spaced close together. Beyond it Botan sits on a low red bench. She is threading shining gold bells to the straps of her geta. The candles have been removed from her kanzashi and in their place are small blue onibi. Sasuke's keen eyes can see beads of wax still clinging to the wood, gleaming under the unnaturally temperate flames.

"Botan-san."

"Little Oni."

Botan's makeup appeared fresh. The red around her eyes was rich and vibrant and the color on her lips shone under the onibi. Her white was solid, right down to the line where her flesh gave way to her bare lower jaw. Sasuke crept closer, nimbly climbing the low wall and skirting the bars to be with her. The roof was long gone but as always the weather remained the same. Just as the time of day. The only changes seemed to be to the yokai themselves. In fact, Sasuke found himself drawn to a new bauble of Botan's. Before the front of Botan's obi had been covered in tama kanzashi and golden floral brooches. Now there were bira-bira pinned in. They looked to be a flock of birds bursting into flight. Dangling from the chains were feathers and delicate strips of silver. They were matched by the new bira-bira in her hair with a chrysanthemum in its center.

So use to doing such with his mother, Sasuke could not help himself from touching the shining strips of precious metal. With a small finger he prodded at the ends until they clinked together in a pleasant chime. Botan did not discourage him. Her own finger, this time a bone with a twist of colored wire around it like a ring, joined in. She slid her finger across the kanzashi in her obi until Sasuke let out a small giggle.

"Botan-san, I have something for you." From his small bag Sasuke produces a velvet pouch. Inside are two bobby pins, threaded through a paper crane each. The traditional washi paper patterns were a favorite of his Obaasan's. He had crafted one small bird in green, sprinkled with gold lines and pink petals. The other in a rich purple with red uchiwas. Without allowing her a word Sasuke slipped the two pins onto the edge of Botan's elaborate obi. Sasuke did not dare pull his eyes from his small gifts, lest he see disappointment. Instead he thumbed the rich fabric there, concentrating on the difference between the fabric and his cheap pins. He'd not lacquered the cranes so in time they would wilt or tear. But for now they were a gorgeous, if cheap, addition to her baubles.

He is finally drawn away by the feel of a hard bone against his chin. The tip of Botan's finger. For a moment he goes cross eyed to look at the intricate weave she's made across her hand with wire. Her soft hum draws his attention upwards. She can not smile. Not a real one anyways. It is only in the height of her cheeks and the crease of her eyes that he can see her joy. "And I for you Oni." With her other hand she produces a folded cloth that had been hidden in the folds of her kimono. The handkerchief is thin, a delicate linen stained in the pattern of a koi fish.

Sasuke is careful when he unfolds it in her palm. Cautious that even the simplest mistake could send her gift tumbling away. Nestled in the fabric is a silver tachibana kanzashi. On its end is a firefly with delicate silver wire wings and a polished amber body. It sat inside a spill of silver petals on links. Beside it is a matching tama kanzashi, the ball is amber in color while the shaft is a shining black. Sasuke does not have the hair necessary to wear them properly. The Uchiha were no stranger to long tails of hair. It was only because of more recent political stress that the men of his clan had chosen to cut their hair. One less thing to liken them to Madara, the first traitor. And his brother Izuna, the first seed of unrest. Sasuke's own hair had remained short for the way it feathered in the back like the tail of a bird. His mother had delighted in it.

"Thank you Botan-san." Sasuke plucks up the firefly kanzashi and sticks it in his own small obi, opposite of his tanto. The tama kanzashi he simply spears upright through the breast seam of his haori. It's not strictly proper but it will have to do until his hair is grown enough to accommodate them. He wonders if in time he can change so much no one will associate him any longer with the fledgling Uchiha survivor.

The two of them talk for hours, though the words between them could be said in minutes alone. Botan is soft spoken, formal where she can be but like her body there are gaps. She often drops sentences or finds herself unable to recall a word. Sasuke, in turn, is not practiced in small talk. If he has an interest and a willing ear he is able to speak volumes. But he is, was, the second son and young still. Taught to be seen and not heard. He was shy among strangers. Too wary of saying the wrong thing and earning his Otōsan's ire. Isolation hasn't improved this at all. Still, he is grateful for the gift and her company. And the Baku talisman that he has used only twice thus far.

His leave from the other world was again guided by the chōchin-obake. Alongside him Botan jingled and chimed with new adornments. Sasuke imagined they looked like quite a lonely procession. Before he bent to crawl through the crack Botan cupped his cheeks and swept the bones of her thumbs over the swell of baby fat there. When she pulled away it was with a wisp of his hair around her pointer finger. Easily caught by her decorative wire. To Sasuke it seemed she wanted to see it longer on his next visit.

Three years and three months after the slaughter, Sasuke Uchiha must tie up his hair. His tail is small, around four inches at its very longest. When he pulls it up the length of it curls neatly and tickles the nape of his neck. Because he wants some of his old self to remain he keeps his bangs the same to frame his face and cover his forehead. More than once he is mistaken for a clanless girl. It brings him as much happiness as grief. He only realizes how much the Uchiha name means to him once he no longer bares it.

The kanzashi stay tucked away in his home. The elders and jounin of the village pay him little mind so long as he attends class and maintains his grades. He does not want to give them invitation to look. So many of them had known his family better than he by sheer virtue of time. No woman in his family had worn kanzashi like the ones Botan had gifted him. If he knew it to be true, so would the adults. It is only at night, when he wants to feel close to Botan, that he pins them into his hair. He does not yet have the length to twist his hair into a bun or an elaborate style but the kanzashi hold, if awkwardly.

  
No one has remarked on his hair growth. Any more than they mention Hinata Hyuuga's short cut. Sasuke sees other parts of himself changing in style but is reluctant to advertise that. The Uchiha clan men had, as a general rule, wore tall and wide collars. Several uncles had alluded to a reason for this but none had seen fit to elaborate to him. Sasuke at times wondered if it had been a childish reason he would only appreciate as an adult. Or if no one really knew at all and the secret was to be kept for prosperity. The women of the clan had dressed in a traditional fashion. On some days one only had to look to the Uchiha compound to see the past.

Kimono of all styles and fabrics. Kuro-Tomesode, Iro-Tomesode, Houmongi, Iromuji, Furisode, Tsukesage. There were women in the clan whom Sasuke had seen in Komon that considered themselves dressed down. But as times changed so had styles. Sasuke's own mother had owned pants. Had worn skirts and dresses that sent her own parents into a flutter. Botan's kimono was in the Hikizuri style. The long hem trailed behind her beautifully, shortened somewhat by the height of her geta, but still pristine despite touching the ground. They were not worn by any women of his clan. As time passed Sasuke found himself drawn to Botan's style. Similar but so strikingly different to any woman from his clan. Like clan but not. Kin.

In down time Shisui had been the type of 'degenerate youth' to wear purposely disheveled yukata. Like his Ojiisan Kagami, Shisui was as brilliant as he was rebellious. In formal situations he deliberately bore his chest and carried his mon on his hems rather than proudly across his back. Older now, taller but not broader, Sasuke could fit into his smallest yukata. The navy high collared shirts and sturdy black rompers remained his village attire but at home he dove into the soft fabrics Shisui had left behind. It was in Izumi's room that Sasuke found what he was looking for but didn't dare wear. A Kakeshita.

Izumi was a cousin more closely related to him through his father than mother. Distant enough that Itachi's supposed interest was encouraged. She would have been his sister in time. Like his brother, Izumi had been a peculiar girl. Sasuke had felt an otherness in her not unlike what he felt in himself. She had loved blood, bugs, and bones. She had unsettled him as a toddler but as Itachi's interest grew so had his. Two days before the slaughter Sasuke had helped her paint eyes on the shoji door of her bedroom. Mokumokuren in jest which had since turned real. The lurid red they had used to depict the sharingan had given way to jaundiced yellow as the yokai creeped in. Sasuke had been oddly grateful for their watch. It looked as if the blood had been drained away from her walls. A pleasant difference to the steady bleed everywhere else he turned.

Izumi's Kakeshita was primarily white. Across the shoulders and down the back were striking gold embellishments. Like her mother had simply dripped the molten sun across it. It formed the long sweeping branches of a tree. Breaking up the splendor were large blooming flowers in red and navy. Stitched at the top center, lost in the riot of color, was a single small Uchiha mon. It was too large for her by far. Too large for Sasuke as well but he had hope that he would grow into it. He hoped that someday he would have the courage to wear it for Botan. That his hair would properly hold the kanzashi. That he too would bare his chest in defiance as his cousin had.

Four years and two months after the slaughter Sasuke Uchiha graduates from the Konoha Shinobi Academy. He is placed on a genin team with a boy who is both yokai and not and with a girl who is not quite right but firmly human. Their teacher is familiar to him in. The small bit of face that does show digs into Sasuke's subconscious but does not unearth anything. For Sasuke his only outward change of note is the length of his hair. Now long enough to twist into a messy bun. The long tail that is customary for his clan makes him look almost identical to his mother. It is not something he wants his jounin sensei to see.

He had discussed at length with Botan how he should dress in the coming months. As an Uchiha, the last of his name in respectable society, he would be observed closely. He would be expected to perform admirably. Sasuke wished dearly to quit. For all that he found the shinobi arts to be interesting, he did not envy the thought of killing. Especially in the name of the village that had so carelessly left him to rot. Sasuke would perhaps live longer outside of the village without the trademark uchiwa stitched onto his back. The problem with this was that all of Sasuke's clothes came from the compound. There was not a single seamstress in the village legally allowed to add or remove the mon. As Sasuke grew he turned to his cousins old bedrooms. He took their clothes. Washed and cared for them. When he grew too large for them he put them back.

At his age now Sasuke's village wear consisted primarily of Shisui's old clothes. The shirts fit him fine but the shorts rode high on his legs. It had been a Sazae-oni who had commented on this. His last venture with Botan had led them along a creek that pooled in a moss covered gully. The Sazae-oni there were odd. Stuck between snail and woman. Some with eyes on stalks while others had the beautiful faces of courtesans. The one who spoke to him had a lone, shapely leg, sticking out from behind her chestnut colored shell. Her cold fingers had tailed high on his legs and left a smear of mucus on the inside of his thigh. She had remarked to Botan that his legs could tempt lesser men.

Sasuke had been wary of the implication. He knew that Botan had been an Oiran once. Long, long ago. He knew that his mother had performed a particular type of mission in her prime. He was not blind to his own attractiveness. But for himself he dressed for the art of it. His body was a pretty thing. Like the kimono the women in his clan had favored. Like the kanzashi in Botan's hair. Like the mokuhanga hung in the Hokage tower. He was not sure that in time this would change.

In the end, Botan had found the words, all of them, to encourage Sasuke to wear clothes more to his liking. Leaving Konoha with his team was not so different than leaving it through the wall. If he were to die it should be in clothes that suit him.

Sasuke Uchiha leaves the Academy for the final time wearing a navy high collared shirt and too short white shorts. He begins his first day as a part of dai-nana-han in a lavender kosode and tight black athletic shorts. Both belonged to Izumi. He looks much more like his mother than ever before and when he looks into Kakashi Hatake's eye he knows it to be true.

Forty-five years after the founding Minato Namikaze performed the bell test on his students. Kakashi Hatake, a then chunin, included. Sixty-three years after the founding Kakashi Hatake performs this same test in a bout of nostalgia. Or perhaps to give Naruto some connection to his father. Sasuke has trouble with teamwork. He has been alone for too many years. He understands the danger a jounin of Hatake's caliber presents. He does not feel that his teammates need to face that. He also is not so blinded by disappointment that he believes only one of them will return to the academy.

Naruto is too much for Sasuke at first glance. Too bright. Too loud. Too naive. It makes something deep inside of Sasuke ache. It rankles against him and brings the brat in him to the surface. But in the end Naruto is like him. He is a jinchuriki. Both yokai and not. Kurama belonged to the world before the Uchiha were in their infancy and he would remain long after Sasuke was gone. That demanded respect. To him and to Naruto. So it was without hesitation that Sasuke fed Naruto. Dai-nana-han passes the test. Sasuke Uchiha becomes an official genin not through violence but through an act of compassion.

Being a genin is frustrating. The work, the reasoning, it all makes sense to Sasuke. His clan had been filled with civil servants. No job is pointless. But Sasuke had grown accustomed to coming and going as he pleased. Seeing Botan had been a rare treat but always under the knowledge that he could see her at any time. Now he was restricted. People watched him more closely. Were more invested in his routine. No longer could he disappear and leave only a pile of rocks.

Kakashi he soon discovers, is kin of a kind. Not other like the yokai and oni beyond the wall but by shared blood. Kakashi is holding a piece of the clan with him and Sasuke is too wary to ask what that allows him to see. While he avoids that conversation Naruto grows close enough to broach another topic.

"Are you a girl or somethin'?"

Rather than answer immediately Sasuke composes himself. He reminds himself that Naruto grew in isolation like himself but without the initial cocoon of family to teach him manners. Naruto always means well, even if his words suggest otherwise. Knowing this does not stop the twitch in his eye nor the clench of his jaw. Sasuke is unused to people so brazenly commenting on his attire. They either do not care for human social norms, i.e. yokai, or they are too unsettled by his existence to even speak to him, i.e. the village of Konoha at large.

"I am a boy."

"Yeah but you're dressed like a girl. Your shorts are all under your shirt. Just wear a dress."

"The shorts are for-", Sasuke takes a deep breath in through his nose and slowly lets it out. "I wear what I like. You wear what you like. We're both boys it-"

"No I'm not."

This admission gives Sasuke pause. "Then you are?"

"Both. 'Cept Kurama. They're neither. And I'm both but most of the time I'm a boy cause Jiji knows I've got those parts an' he says he so..."

"Ah...well...," Sasuke crosses his arms over his chest, "I am a boy. I just, like these clothes better. Would you like me to address you as They?"

"Oh man, would you?" The smile Sasuke receives from Naruto is radiant. Sasuke captures the moment with his sharingan. More than committing the smile to memory, he sees a grand construct beyond Naruto. Like he had once seen the giant skeleton of Botan folded into her image he could see what could only be Kurama crouched behind Naruto.

"Yes." Sasuke is slow to blink. This is why Naruto is too much. The enormity of a chakra construct is filling his body to its very seams. It's humbling and terrifying. Sasuke feels a trill of excitement race down his spine. "Naruto, would the two of you like to see something special?"

"Wha-? The two of us?"

Sasuke raises a brow. "Unless you're too scared that is."

"What? Us? No way you bastard. Show us."

There is a moment, fleeting and painful, where Sasuke considers how hurt Sakura will be by the exclusion. But this is for them. There will be other moments with Sakura. Memories in Konoha and beyond its gates in her world.

Taking Naruto through the wall is special. He can see the shadow beyond for what it is. His eyes don't slide away like a normal persons would. There is a power, a presence, to him that seems to squeeze itself through the crack. Seeing him stand, for the first time, in the soft diffused light of the other world was a moment Sasuke would not forget. He was seeing a person become who they were, really, for the first time. Naruto and Kurama were something together just as much as they were separate and Sasuke could not find words to describe how that looked. Beyond settled.

"Do you want to meet my friend?"

Naruto turns to him. He does and Kurama does. There's a delay between the man and beast like their souls are tethered on a short leash. "Is she nice?"

"I think so." There were no chōchin-obake to guide his way. He knew the path to Botan's home by heart now. Sasuke didn't bother to stay even with Naruto, or even look over his shoulder after him. Kurama was a big fish. None of the lesser yokai would bother crossing their path maliciously out of respect or fear. And nothing powerful would bother unless Naruto and Kurama made a move first. This would objectively be Sasuke's safest trip beyond the wall. Sasuke did take the path slower than he would have normally. Naruto deserved that at least. To take in the wonder of the permanent twilight all around them.

It is with no small amount anxiety that Sasuke leads Naruto up the steps to Botan's favorite haunt. She is dressed beautifully. In a kimono of striking sapphire blue, embroidered richly with red petals and golden birds. Her obi is a soft pink though it is sparsely glimpsed through all of her kanzashi and brooches. Her makeup, as always, is a pristine white broken only by vibrant red in small splashes. Sasuke is dressed blandly by comparison but he hopes that bringing Naruto with him will make up for it.

And Naruto does not disappoint. Rather than being frightened by Botan's exposed bone and enormous presence, he is in awe. Naruto shambles up the steps to Botan and drops to their knees in a bow at her socked feet. "It's an honor to meet you ma'am."

Botan reaches out with slim, light skinned finger, and tips their chin up. "An honor returned. Botchan." Botan nods to herself as she pulls her finger away. Then she sweeps her arm in a wide arc to welcome Sasuke to her side. He goes to her readily and does not let his gaze linger on Naruto as he tucks his face to her sharp collarbones.

"Oh man, Sasuke you didn't tell me your friend was an Orian. They're like...she's like...oh man. The flower ladies love Orian. It's like um, like when people knew how to treat ladies ya' know. Like real flowers."

"Little Oni, your friend?"

Sasuke huffs then gently pulls his face away. He gestures to Naruto and to the enormity of the chakra construct that is the Kyuubi. He twists his mouth into a frown as he tries to find a way to describe Naruto. "Jibun. Naruto is," he gestures to himself, then Botan, "Naruto is Jibun."

Talking about gender, sex, preference, is difficult for Sasuke. He knows what he is. Who he is. How he likes to express himself. He knows his father would not have approved of any of it. He fears what others would do in light of it. Of the questions. Sasuke understands what Naruto is but it is difficult for him to describe that to Botan. She is old. The language to describe Naruto did not exist then though the presentation did. So Jibun. Because it is the best he can do.

"Kitsune or Nogitsune?" Botan tilts her head to the side. Questioning Naruto more than Kyuubi. That she knows. Neither.

"I dunno. Both I guess." Naruto shrugs. Like the difference between the two isn't blatant. Like the inherent not knowing means they are certainly more nogitsune than not. But there is also light to Naruto. Like the sun contained in skin and so maybe they know better than Botan or Sasuke.

From then Naruto becomes a companion to Sasuke during trips beyond the wall. Not always. There are times still when Sasuke wants to be alone. When he wants to wander through the twilight and imagine he is just a little Oni. Not Uchiha Sasuke. Not a tragic legacy. Not a teammate or a shinobi.

On other occasions Sasuke finds himself forging new paths with the shadow of a nine tailed fox cloaking them. Kurama's shadow does not diffuse in the soft light. Does not soften at the edges or bleed into the undertow. It is sharp, defined, and vibrant always. Naruto is much the same. At least beyond the wall.

Trips beyond Konoha become more frequent. Kakashi must sense the longing in all of them to flee so he pulls them along on any pitily mission that will take them past the gates. They collect herbs. Hunt wild game. They chase the bakeneko Tora across all of Fire country it seems. That particular mission brings Sasuke the most joy. It reminds him of the time before the massacre. Of his Okaa-san and Obaa-san.

It is Tora that paves the way for their first C rank mission. Their continual catch and release of him have impressed the Daiymo's wife. She remarks that they must be wasted on such small things. Kakashi is quick to capitalize on her compliment and secures an escort mission.

Tazuna is drunk but not a drunkard. Sasuke is unfamiliar with the difference but Naruto is quick to assure him. They are also quick to keep distance between Tazuna and their teammates. Sasuke is grateful. He is able to keep his distance this way, though his keen hearing is still able to discern Tzuna's confusion about his sex. Sakura is grateful as well. Disparaging comments about her hair and build aside, she is uncomfortable with drunkeness. Her dreams of escort missions are more in line with princess movies than reality.

When they are attacked Sasuke is only just caught by surprise. The puddle is out of place but that does not mark his notice. It is the faint buzz around it and the way Naruto's shadow seems to jolt to attention. Pulled from its usual satisfied sprawl that looms over all of them. He does not have time to suss out its importance before the water explodes. Kakashi is there and not. Sasuke acts, easily picking up the slack for his frightened teammate. The sickly sweet smell of poison fills the air seconds before the hot copper of blood.

The men from the puddle are dead. Then there is another man. Kakashi is back again and Sasuke traces the aura of him. The wild crackle and pop of his raw white chakra. It follows him in a blinding spire and Sasuke is in awe of it. There is chaos, confusion. Exhaustion. Sasuke has been using his eyes to see. Using them to fight is draining. It pulls on Sasuke. Like something is coming up from his soul through his eyes.

It is an afterthought that the second interloper is male. Sasuke thinks he only notices because he chooses to dress the same way. It doesn't seem important at all. When their team finally makes it to Wave, finally tucks Kakashi into bed, finally lies down to rest, Sasuke is grateful that he has chosen Izumi's clothes to leave the village in. He would rather die himself than die maintaining the societal norms of people he can not stand.

The rest of the mission is a building storm. Sasuke will always remember Wave. The golden red molten glass construct of Kurama over Naruto. The mist that clouds his vision in white but becomes a beautiful sea of swirling blue as chakra breathes through it. Haku who is male and not or both. Who is gorgeous and loyal and deadly. Who died in the cacophony of chirping birds and blinding light. He won't forget the way his heart ached when he saw himself in Haku's mirrors. When he imagined for just a moment that he would be leaving his teammates forever.

As always with him, Botan is patient. She is quiet save for the chimes of her kanzashi and bells. She listens. Sasuke's words come to him in bits and pieces. Sometimes he gives only descriptions. When he is through Botan coaxes his face up to hers. Her finger is covered in a thin layer of pale flesh and though Sasuke knows her nails to be yellow and weak, they are lacquered in a thick layer of vibrant pink. It matches the peony's flourishing across her obi. Sasuke takes in all of this before looking into her eyes. Though her skin, her makeup, her hands change, her eyes do not. They are always black. Dark and bottomless but Sasuke can see the life there. It's comforting in the way his mother's eyes use to be. How the red of her sharingan was nearly eclipsed by the swirling black scythes of her mangekyou.

"Little Oni, Botchan."

Sasuke keeps his eyes on hers. Does not stray to her teeth and jaw or he will lose himself in the motions of it. "Botan-san?"

"Beautiful boy. So kind." Her finger sweeps down from his chin to his neck. She traces the pin pricks there, mostly healed now. "Grow. Love. Botchan will." She loses her train of thought. Or needs to gather the right words to say. Sasuke is still looking into her eyes. These interactions had always unsettled Naruto. They did not like to be looked at with such scrutiny. But Sasuke is Uchiha. Uchiha look at each other, into each other. The sharingan can see what is hard to say. To Sasuke this is normal and Botan, as always, reminds him of his mother. "Be brave. Tell Plum Wine. Tell Storm Kin."

"Botan?"

"Snakes. Be brave."

Sasuke grabs her wrist. He tucks his thumb into her palm and grounds himself to the feel of her cool skin. Botan can not see the furture. But there are creatures who can. Yokai who respect her, who speak to her. And yokai who whisper. The men trapped in the trees speak. It's a hum, a feeling. Sasuke can only guess at times what they really mean. Botan is warning him.

Sasuke lets out a breath. His throat works around his fear, presses against her knuckles. "Botan." He blinks rapidly. Fights against the swell of tears and refuses to meet her gaze in his weakness. He's frightened. He never wanted to be a shinobi. He wanted to help people. He wanted to be a priest. Or a glass blower. A seamster. A potter. Any number of things that let him be. That let him grow and create and help without killing someone else. Those were not paths his father would allow him. So he dreamed of them. Hoped for them.

Now he has no Okaasan to buffer him. To plead his case. His is an Uchiha and he will be a shinobi of the Leaf. Even if it kills him. From what he has learned in his years since the massacre, this is probably what they want.

"Cry Botchan." Botan takes both hands and cups his cheeks. She wipes away the budding tears there and caresses the swell of baby fat clinging to his face. "Be afraid. Okay Botchan?" It's the closest thing to permission she can string together. Sasuke recognizes it and does something he hasn't in years.

Sixty three years and six months after the founding Sasuke tucks his face into Botan's chest and cries. He cries without restraint. Without shame. Like he did years ago. Like he did the first night he met her. Sasuke sobs and shakes against her, scarecly smelling the steel and blood on her through the choke of his tears.

Botan loosens his hair. She runs one hand through it while holding him close with her other. Botan can not remember lullabies or rhymes. Those escape her but her Little Oni likes the sound of her bells and chimes so she rocks him. She soothes him until his tears taper off and he drifts away. Like she had done once before, Botan scoops up her Little Oni and walks him to the wall. He sways in her grip, shifting from thin arms to hand bones the size of dinner plates. She takes him through the trees of men. Takes him to the wall. She tucks him into the crack once more.

When Sasuke wakes his hair is delicately pinned to the side of his head. When he finally wakes enough to look at himself he sees that it is held with a wooden comb of rich red wood with a cluster of fireflies carved into it's top. The amber glass matches the kanzashi she'd given him before. As Sasuke traces it he notices the smallest smear of red on his cheek. Paint from Botan's only lip.

  
The near death experience gives him strength. Botan has given him strength. And permission. It was one thing to share with Naruto what they should have always known. It is another to speak with Sakura and Kakashi. He washes away her lipstick when he changes into a new haori. It is a rich navy blue covered in vivid red flowers. The Uchiha mon is boldly sewn across its breast.

People notice him. His parent's generation. Izumi's generation. They recognize his haori. Their eyes trail over the feminine cut of it. Over the pattern. The mon. The tight black shorts. Men linger on his hair. On the comb. Likely on the fireflies. Sasuke has learned what they mean. Knows to be wary of the men who know what it means. The Sazae-oni were right about his legs.

Kakashi finds him. He is stooped low. Sasuke wonders if it's all exhaustion or if some of it is grief. Fatigue in life. He wonders if Kakashi-sensei saw Kurama the same way he had. Sasuke stands before him, wishes for pockets and crosses his arms instead. "Sensei?"

"Maa, Sasuke, you look nice today." Kakashi's fingers are lightning quick over his comb. He looks like his mother. Kakashi sees that at least.

"Sensei, have you been to the compound?"

"Not in a long time."

"But you've been?" At his nod Sasuke steps in close. To some it could look inappropriate. He is dressed like a girl. There is a firefly in his hair and no hitai-ate in sight. Even now a copy of Icha Icha peeks from Kakashi's back pocket. Kakashi is no pervert. No pedophile. He was a pretty orphan once too. "Have you walked along the wall?"

There is recognition in Kakashi's visible eye. And the weight on his shoulders seems to double. It drops him into a crouch so that he can bring his eye to Sasuke's. "Not in a very long time." The two of them are tucked away. The street is busy but it is truly busy. No one spares them a glance. No one infringes on their nook between two stalls. Sasuke's eyes are quick to track Kakashi's hand. The same one he'd used to touch the comb. He hooks a finger into his mask and pulls. The grin Sasuke receives for his shock is full of teeth. An otherness. Dog teeth. Wolf teeth. More beastly than anything the Inuzuka possess. The Hatake were many once. And they were Other too.

Sasuke's eyes flicker red. A moment to be able to see those yokai teeth buried in his sensei's mouth forever. "Honne-Onna says snakes are coming. The living trees--" Sasuke is stopped with a finger to his lips. Kakashi's mask is back in place and he rises. Removing his finger only to gently pat Sasuke on the top of the head.

"Something special is coming. Let's wait until the whole team is together to talk about it."

It's the chunin exams. It's war. It's the Ichibi Shukaku and the Obake that was once Orochimaru. Sasuke is terrified. His body is his own. His eyes are his own. His legacy and his connection to the other side. What Orochimaru does is taboo to man but to him as well. To the order of things beyond the wall. Orochumaru is a monster and Sasuke is frightened of him. Sasuke dodges snakes and teeth and dark appreciative eyes until he is run ragged.

It is Sakura that brings a solution. She checks them over. Empties their pockets and plans. The Baku talisman is among Sasuke's things. With Shisui's tanto and his own coils of wire. She clutches the worn token like a lifeline then thrusts it into Sasuke's face. "Use this."

"It's for nightmares."

Sakura laughs. A little disjointed. A little off. It's becoming clearer that she's not right but also not Other. "He seems like a nightmare to me. We can't keep running from him and you're the only one who can get a message out." That's not entirely true. With enough effort Naruto could get a bunshin to the proctors. If it were stealthy and fast. The three of them could make a break for the canopy at the risk of being found. Sasuke isn't sure asking for a Baku is any better. You must be cautious with them. If they run out of bad dreams to eat they will eat your desires. Your ambitions. Sasuke isn't ready to lose that part of himself. But Orochimaru's aim is much the same regardless.

Naruto offers their jacket for Sasuke to kneel on but he refuses. Dirt, loam, soot, its never bothered him before. It grounds him. He cups the talisman and holds it tight to his chest. Feels his heart beating. Wills his breathing to slow. Only once he's feeling light headed does he ask for the Baku to come. Like all the other times there is a tug. A gentle stirring in the back of his skull that says it has come. Sasuke was given the talisman by Botan. Botan warned him of the snakes. So he can only hope they know each other in some way. That this yokai who can exist in both places at once as it pleases can pass along a message. "Orochimaru. Please, help us."

They don't have time to wait for a response. The bristling shadow of Kurama unfurls from Naruto's feet and stretches itself forward in a point. It's a warning and a direction. Naruto grabs their things and Sakura before pushing her forward. They run as fast as they're able without making noise, using Kurama's pointed nose as a compass. Sakura is blind to it but never falters. Her sensory range and keen mind keeps her in line as best as her stamina is able to compensate.

They are young. Inexperienced. Too small. When they falter it is because even Naruto can not drag Sakura along any farther. They lie together. Exhausted. Dirty. Sasuke crawls across his teammates. Looks at Sakura's red face and Naruto's watery eyes. He wants to lie with them like he couldn't with his mother. He'd found the strength to run then and had regretted it for so long. He doesn't think he could bare to do it again.

They lie in a heap, breathing hot air into each other's faces and necks. Their bodies are sticky and filthy. The cool ground is almost a relief and if they try hard enough they can imagine that Kakashi is coming for them. That they've trained all day with dogs at their heels and they'll be rewarded with ramen and calloused fingers in their hair. When cold rushes over them they believe it is the end. It draws a whimper from them each but they do not run. Do not seperate. They hear a whisper. An exhale accompanied by more cold and the smell of rotting food and rich soil. Sasuke is the first to look.

And it is his sound of wonder that draws the eyes of his teammates. A Shinigami. It is grand. Broad in the shoulders with wild hair that could be made from smoke or shadows. It's kimono was a pristine white even where the ground reached up to meet it. Across it's back were two haraegushi. The shide there were worn at the folds and yellowed with age. Sasuke could not see it's face and found himself grateful. It was not there for them. The baku had passed along their message.

Though Sakura had no sight of her own, she too had seen the Shinigami. The tightening of her fingers in Sasuke's sleeve told him so. The catch in her breath and the quiver in her legs. Perhaps being trapped so closely between Sasuke and Naruto had been enough for her to see it. Or perhaps the Shinigami wanted to be known. Death could not be cheated. Not really. It would have its day with them.  
The three of them could not watch as it devoured Orochimaru. They remained tucked together against the dirt, eyes fixed on each other, until the smell of rot vanished. Until they felt warm again. Where the Shinigami had stood, only a scroll remained.

There is more fighting. More anger. The Hyuuga's fight against each other because Konoha must hide its shame. Gaara no Sabaku bends to the beck and call of Kurama's little sibling and dares anyone and everyone to stop it. Sasuke wonders if Orochimaru needed interfere at all to cause the commotion. Or if things had simply been still for so long it was bound to happen. The villages stretching their wings after a long rest.

When Sasuke enters the arena and stands across from Gaara no Sabaku he does so in his mother's clothes. He wears a red and gold haori. He wears his hair in a long tail. The firefly tachibana kanzashi is pinned through, just above his tail. When he moves it chimes and sways with him. Gaara does not remark on his clothing. His hair. Nor the swath of bandages along his left arm. Likewise Sasuke does not comment of the massive shadow of Shukaku that slops and sways across the sand of the arena.

Their fight is slow. They can sense things about each other that other opponents can not. Gaara is wary and excited in turn. Sasuke is cautious. Not frightened. Nothing will ever frighten him as much as Orochimaru's intentions. He had learned things in the recess that he almost wishes he had not. Gaara toys with Sasuke. Sasuke tests the boundaries of Gaara's control. Sasuke knows he will not win. Not against a jinchuriki. But he doesn't need to. He just needs to show his worth. And he has chosen to show it in his mother's clothes. In Botan's trinkets. He uses his sensei's jutsu. Not fire. He has chosen to honor his family but to move on. To be himself.

In the end Sasuke can only herd Gaara and Shukaku. Without Orochimaru to at the helm the invasion fell apart. But Shukaku had been promised blood. Violence. Death. Sasuke does what he can, then falls back and watches the crackling spire of his sensei's chakra move in. He is not alone. The shroud of dragon fire that is Maito Gai is close behind. There are others. Jounin who emerged in the wake of the third great war. The ones still young enough to be reckless but old enough to know when to stop.

Dai-nana-han leaves the chunin exams without promotion. At Kakashi's insistence. It's to protect them. Sasuke is grateful for this as well. He feels like he can breathe. He feels tethered to this world in a way he hasn't in a long time. He can no longer disappear to the other side leaving only a pile of rocks. His teammates would come. Not for the last loyal Uchiha. But for Sasuke.

Sixty three years and nine months after the founding Sasuke invites his teammates to tea. Sasuke does not meet them at the entrance. He trusts that Naruto will lead them properly. They have come around enough to know which streets have the least blood. Which paths are the easiest to see. In truth Sasuke is nervous. He is preforming a tea ceremony. He had attended many at his Okaasan's knee. But this is no standard ceremony. His teammates are not bound by clan etiquette to be polite. His tea room is bare, save for a vase of wildflowers he'd collected that morning. The tatami is worn. The shoji dividers yellowed with age and spotted with the beginnings of a Mokumokuren infestation.

More importantly Sasuke has invited Botan-san. She does not make trips beyond the wall. Has not in all the time Sasuke has known her. But for him, for her Little Oni, she has agreed. Her makeup is more extravagant today. In part because all of her face is present. It is startling, to Sasuke, to see her whole. But Botan is Honne-Onna. She must have looked like this in life. Must have looked like this with the man of her affections. When he was still alive.

Her white makeup is pristine, powdered and even from forehead to collarbone. The corners of her eyes are smudged with red. Likewise her eyebrows and the hollows of her cheeks are blushed softly. Her lips, both of them, are painted neatly. Red still. The kanzashi in her hair are free of candles and onibi. But they are numerous and gleaming gold. They demand as much attention as the large obi folded across her front. It is one Sasuke had not seen before. It was laboriously detailed with a climbing Buddhist temple. The red threads of the roof tiles stood out starkly from the deep greens marking the mountains and the rich blues creating the waterfall. Pink sakura petals swirled throughout. There are only two decorations along its hem. The origami charms he had made her so long ago. Still in tact and crisply folded.

Sasuke had been so moved by the detail he had barely been able to accept her gift. Botan had arrived with the rising sun. And she had made use of that time by helping Sasuke into a furisode kimono. It was not done. Not by men. Not by boys. But Sasuke was her Little Oni and she was happy to spoil him. It was dark green. So dark it could almost be black. But building from its hem were large peonies. In red and gold. They started large and flowed up the bottom hem and the large swooping sleeves to small buds. The layers underneath were a deep red, a color to match Botan's eye makeup. The obi was white, stitched through with amber threads that looked like bugs wings. Fireflies again.

Botan had also done his hair. Sasuke did not have the length to do a proper Oiran hairstyle and it was the one aspect of Botan's style that he did not envy for himself. Instead she pulled his hair into a simple twist at the back of his neck, securing it with the two kanzashi she'd gifted him so long ago. With that in place she pulled down a bit of hair to frame the left side of his face. On the other side she tucked his comb alongside his ear. Sasuke declined makeup. He wasn't sure that was something he wanted for himself.

All the same, he looked unlike his teammates knew him. But he felt good. He felt powerful. Like his Okaasan. He felt that someday he could dress like this and command the attention of a room. While he waited for his team to arrive he busied himself by smoothing his hands across his kimono and by looking over the new bits of Botan's face. She was gorgeous. A traditional beauty with chubby cheeks and a round face. Her wide sloping nose. These were features Sasuke had always known but to see her complete it felt new. His mother had been more angular in the jaw. More birdlike but she'd had Madara's full cheeks. Sasuke hoped that he kept his as well.

At midday Naruto led the way into Sasuke's home. In the genkan they yelled out their greeting while slipping off their sandals. Sasuke had been pleasantly surprised to see them all dressed to their own liking.

Kakashi stood in front of them with a surgical mask. His haori was sapphire blue marked with angular Hatake mon in silver. He still wore his black jounin pants but had replaced his usual armored gloves for plated silver guards and black sleeves. Sasuke remembers that his clan were samurai once. Before the chakra tree bore fruit.

He takes in Sakura next. She carries no clan mon and wears pressed white slacks with a pink blouse. On her feet are low cut socks patterned with cartoon pigs. Her hair is held up with a more modern hair pin, plastic painted silver and red, but her hair is much the same as his own.

Naruto is, like him, attempting a new and adventurous style. Their pants are just a touch too large and had once been black. Washes had worn them to a blueish brown. Second hand then but new to them. Their top however was new in every sense. A woman's cut haori in a burnt orange with a traditional green karakusa pattern along its edges. "Hey Sasuke, do ya' like it?" They tug at their own sleeve and bring it in close for Sasuke to see. "One of the flower girls let me borrow it. Oh man, if I get tea on it though she's gonna make me--"

They are cut short describing their fate by Kakashi's hand. "Now, now, let's not say something we'll regret. Sasuke, thank you for having us in your home." He releases Naruto's mouth and shoves them not so gently towards the guest slippers. Slippers Sasuke had been made to purchase for this very occassion. "Green suits you."

"Thank you." He bows his head and gestures for them to head deeper into his home. Sakura is the next to comment on his kimono.

"It looks so nice on you. I hate them. All the plastic and towels inside. I feel like if I move too fast it's all going to shake out. My Kaa-san is already planning on which one she's going to get me. She wants to do one in pink but I was actually hoping for something green." Sakura gestured across his body and then hers. "I was thinking a light green to match my eyes but that's really nice. I hadn't even thought about it. But I guess if it's too nice I might be tempted to wear it more than once and I don't want to do that so--"

They have made it to the tea room and Botan has stood to greet them all. Though Sasuke feels powerful in his kimono it is nothing to the sight of Botan. Her obi alone is a work of art and it simply sits in front of her hikizuri kimono. It is golden in color with a faint yabane design that melts into crashing blue waves along its hems. "Jibun. Kitsune, Nogitsune, come." Botan holds out her hands and though the tips of her fingers are all that show, Naruto follows her gesutre easily. They are quick to fall into her embrace.

"Wow Botan-san, you've got a whole face there. It's real pretty." Rather than being offended she answers with a soft laugh. When they pull away she tips her head in greeting. Sasuke hurries forward and steps beside her.

"This is Botan-san. She is a Honne-Onna. And my friend." He spares a quick glance at his sensei. At Sakura. They look in awe and Sasuke hopes it is the opulence and not the otherness that pulls at their faces. "Botan, this is Sakura. Plum Wine." He looks to Botan as he points her out. She had difficulties with human names. Or did not prefer them. Mentioning Sakura in passing had seemed to upset her. But at the time, when Botan was alive and working, a little girl named Sakura was probably a very terrible thing indeed.

"Plum Wine. Brave girl."

"This is my sensei. Kakashi. Storm Kin." This reaction he is more eager to see. He'd not known Kakashi was other like him. Had not thought to mention it to Botan before and he is curious to see her take.

"Storm Kin. So bright." She says nothing else but does touch the tips of her fingers to her lips. It could mean nothing but it could also be a memory. The Hatake would have been dozens strong in her time. Proper packs. "Tea." Botan runs her knuckles across the underside of Sasuke's chin then takes her seat at the low table.

Because it is his home, Sasuke serves. He is careful to place himself across from Botan, just as he is careful to place Naruto beside her. Full in flesh Botan is a vision, eerily human. But her eyes are black still. It can be unsettling. He does not want to make Sakura uncomfortable in his home so he creates a distance between them. Kakashi takes the head of the table. A much more welcome sight there than Sasuke can ever remember.

Four years and eleven months after the massacre Sasuke sits to a tea ceremony with those he would call family. Kin. The tea is cheap and the cakes are packaged. Sasuke sits in clothes meant for him but sewn for a girl. He sits with a yokai. With a girl. With someone who is both and someone who is between.

The Uchiha have always been drawn to otherness.

The Uchiha have always harbored demons.

The Uchiha are nearly gone but one still clings to life.

**Author's Note:**

> That is totally not how I wanted it to end!! I was actually waffling about making Sasuke either some sort of wandering priest or having him pull a Watanuki a la xxxHolic. I couldn't decide so I plan on doing some one-shots in the verse once I do. I'll link it as a series.
> 
> And I've got a lot of reasoning for why I mentioned the stuff I did. Like repetition in certain areas and descriptions. Also, Sasuke def identifies as male he just likes pretty clothes. He imprinted way hard on Botan. And he was 1000% a momma's boy before that. Naruto likes being both but Kurama is a chakra being that has developed past such societal things thank you very much fleshie humans. And dog teeth Kakashi gives me life.
> 
> I might post a second chapter with a little cheat sheet on the demons and other Japanese terms that appeared.


End file.
